“Oh, Adie Lou?” Scooter calls.

I turn around too quickly, my heart racing for some reason, wondering what he wants to say to me.

“Be careful not to wake up Gladys,” he says. “She likes her naps.”

TEN

A tarp is flapping on top of the turret when I arrive home. In the wind and snow, it looks like a ghost that got trapped in the midst of trying to enter the cottage to haunt it.

The front door flies open, and two men head outside carrying scrap lumber.

I’m guessing the ghost is trying to get the hell out of this cottage, I think.

Sonny starts barking, his head jerking between the roof and the construction crew, his one good eye racing from real people to perceived ghosts on the roof.

He’s so excited that he lifts his leg and tinkles mostly on my snow boot. I groan and rush him inside, kicking off my boots and chunks of snow onto the braided rug by the front door. I am shrugging off my coat when Frank approaches.

“Who’s this? Hi, buddy!” Frank says to Sonny. “Looks like you’ve had a tough go.” He looks up at me. “Yours?”

I nod.

“Until now,” Frank amends, his voice high and excited. “You hit the lotto!”

Frank plops on the floor and begins to play with Sonny, using his fingers to scamper around the Lab’s legs. Sonny barks in excitement, and Frank laughs, the burly general contractor reduced to a giggling boy.

“I have good news and bad news,” Frank finally says, looking up at me.

“Was this your way of softening the blow?” I ask. “Playing with the dog?”

“No,” he says, grunting as he stands. He picks up Sonny and puts his face next to the dog’s, panting alongside the Lab. “Does this help?”

“Good news first, please,” I say, crossing my arms.

“Your septic is in good shape,” Frank says. “Your parents got the mega-tank, which is lucky for you, so you don’t need a second one. And they’ve kept it clean as a whistle, so to speak.”

“Bad news?” I ask, my face already wincing.

“You know how you want to upgrade the kitchen with new appliances, including a big, gas stove? Well, we need to run a new gas line from outside.”

“Okay...?”

“That means we have to demo the concrete pad on the patio as well as the kitchen floor and run a new pipe for the stove,” Frank says. I groan, and Frank sets Sonny down, knowing he’s not softening the blow any longer.

“How much?” I ask.

“Two to three thousand.”

I fall back against the wall, hitting the Cottage Rules sign.